


Fifteen days

by Iolanfg



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Humor, Jealous Sherlock, M/M, Manipulative Mycroft Holmes, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Pre-Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 04:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolanfg/pseuds/Iolanfg
Summary: There was a conversation on the Facebook groupMystrade is our division Writters and Readers for some pictures of Mark and Martin and this came out."Sherlock, what would be your worst nightmare?- That my best friend and roommate also became a close friend of my brother and that my second best friend and favorite detective had a sentimental relationship with my brother....- Well, Sherlock, there are two things I must tell you..."





	Fifteen days

**Author's Note:**

> Everything belongs to Doyle, Moffat and Gatiss.  
> English is not my first language, this was translated with the translator Deepl, I regret any error. Thank you for reading.

Fifteen days

\- I'm sorry? 

\- Let's see: I picked you up by surprise after leaving a 48-hour hospital guard, my driver has been circling the same neighborhood for half an hour and what started out as a conversation about an international killer on the loose in London turned into a monologue fifteen minutes ago about how difficult it is to get quality socks lately and you haven't complained about anything. Not once. So, I repeat, when are you going to sleep with my brother?

John gasped, stunned

\- I'm not sleeping with your brother! I'm not gay!

\- And I don't have banal conversations about feelings, and yet here we are!

Mycroft's lips were stretched on what could be defined as a smile. If sharks would smile. 

\- Even if I wanted to sleep with your brother, which I don't want to do, my sex life is none of your business, Mycroft.

\- It is if it interferes in my affairs.

\- Your affairs? Well, let's talk about your affairs. What about you and Greg?

\- That's different.

\- Oh, yeah, you and Greg are already sleeping together. But is that all you want? I don't know, after, like, six years? maybe you want something else... A nest together, maybe?

\- I'm fine, John, thank you. Greg had a difficult marriage and divorce and he doesn't want to rush things.

\- Precipitate? You couldn't slow down if you tried. But I wasn't talking about Greg. Do you want anything else?

\- What I want doesn't matter, what Greg wants is what matters! - After a brief hesitation, the mask of false indifference returned to its place - I won't deny that you have the talent to go off on a tangent but would you mind not changing the subject? My brother is smart, not as smart as Eurus or me, but compared to the rest of the world, pretty smart, handsome, when he agrees to shower more than once a week, and funny, except when you want to strangle him. So what's your problem?

\- It's not...I never... If he wanted something else he would have told me, wouldn't he? I mean, Sherlock is a specialist in telling the world what he wants!

\- When my brother saw his first Belfast in that shop window, he liked it so much that he bought it, put it in a plastic bag and still has it in the back of his closet so it doesn't get damaged. Then he bought twenty more for daily use. I know because he used my credit card.

There was something between melancholy, funny and affectionate in his tone. John looked at him, perplexed.

\- Are you saying what...?

\- What could I keep you in a closet so as not to spoil what he has with you, even though he may be wishing... get you out of it? , yes.

John stared at the politician's raised eyebrow, not sure he knew what to say.

\- The question, John, is what do you want?

\- I... I don't want to spoil what we have.

\- But you want something more than you have.

\- It's not that easy. I can't go and just tell him that... Well, we don't do that. Talk about feelings.

\- No, that wouldn't be a good idea, no. However.....

*************************  
\- Sherlock, calm down! -

Gregory Lestrade ran his hand through his hair, trying to contain the headache.

\- Calm down!? Calm down!? This is your fault! You can't please my brother and he has to go out to...?

\- Stop right there! Your brother is very, very, very happy. I can assure you, and there's nothing between John and him!

\- Nothing? They've seen each other five times in two weeks, they were together when they were supposed to be at work, or shopping, or whatever my brother does when he's not watching me or starting a war. They've been drinking tea and going to eat, texting each other that makes them smile like idiots and...

\- Wait a minute, you've been spying on John and Mycroft?

\- I shouldn't have done it if you'd keep a better eye on your boyfriend! The question is: if there's nothing to hide, why are they hiding?

Greg sighed, exasperated and wanting to find a reasonable excuse.

\- Are they throwing a surprise party?

\- Mycroft doesn't like surprises. Nor the parties. And if you're going to prepare one, John would be the last person you'd do it with. He doesn't have the slightest talent for dissimulation.

Greg refused to believe Sherlock, Mycroft would never do that to him, but...

They had never really talked about the future or their relationship, which had started after their divorce and, even though they had had ups and downs, he thought everything was going well...

Well, maybe Mycroft would have insinuated something about living together on occasion and Greg had been a little scared, leaving it for later, they had only been together for six years, seven months and three weeks after all! But Mycroft knew that his relationship was important to him, didn't he?

\- Well, what do you intend to do?

Sherlock opened the four laptops on the table.

\- Asking them would be dangerous, so I hacked into the city's camera system.

\- Yeah, asking them wouldn't do any good ...wait, what did you do what!?

\- Don't worry, The only one who could have noticed is Mycroft, and he's busy right now trying to steal my John.

Greg couldn't help smiling at Sherlock's possessive term.

\- "My John?"

\- Arg! Shut up and look, okay?

Greg decided to drop the subject as the screens came to life, showing them different angles of the city and with the detective zooming in on the image of two men, one in a three-piece suit and one in a leather jacket, walking together through the park.

*********************  
\- Really, Mycroft, I appreciate it, but this isn't working... Sherlock doesn't suspect anything by more evidence of our encounters that I dropped, and Greg...

\- Patience, John. I told you fifteen days. Today is the fifteenth day.

\- Are you sure it's going to work?

\- Well, according to my calculations, it works in 97 out of 100 possible scenarios.

\- What about the other three?

\- Oh, in one Greg kills you, in another Sherlock shoots me and in the third they repudiate us both and leave together.

John snorted, nervously and refusing to believe that those three possible scenarios were probable, although Mycroft's impassive face and casual tone clearly told him that talked he was completely serious and that they were a very real possibility.

\- But even if you're right, it doesn't mean that... I've never been with... You know, I don't know if I could... And well, he...

\- Scared, soldier boy?

Mycroft stopped, smiling, and John imitated him, irritated.

\- I'm not...

John couldn't finish the sentence. Suddenly, with a force that no one would suppose, Mycroft had crushed him against the wall and lunged at his mouth.

The doctor was paralyzed. He had never kissed a man. He had only thought of kissing one, and had always been afraid that he wouldn't like it. But that was just incredible. It felt good that it was someone else who dominated the kiss, only to be carried away for once, by lips soft and strong at the same time. He liked to feel the roughness of Mycroft's growing beard against his cheek and the smell of manly cologne and, if he closed his eyes, he could imagine that it was another Holmes kissing him. His legs gave way a little and he let himself be carried away.

**********************

"You're dead, John Watson. You can't imagine how dead you are."

Greg was going to kill him, he didn't even need to curse the Yard for not allowing him to carry weapons, he wanted to strangle John with his own hands.

Okay, in practice, you could say that it was Mycroft who pounced on John and kissed him as if there were no tomorrow.

But it wasn't like John had resisted, was it? No, he hadn't. Not even a little. And now, John was going to die.

Maybe if he hadn't been so busy planning John's murder, Greg would have realized that since Sherlock and he had left Baker Street running and rushed into the car to get going at full speed, they hadn't seen a single car getting in their way, and he would have noticed that, coincidentally, all the traffic lights were green.

If Sherlock hadn't been so anxious and frustrated, he would have realized that Mycroft had kissed John right in front of the CCTV camera. Cameras whose location his paranoid and discreet brother knew perfectly.

***********************

\- Ahem, I think that's enough, John.  
Mycroft broke contact abruptly, as indifferent and calm as if they had been talking about the weather.

John destabilized slightly, stunned and gasping a little, his heart racing at a thousand an hour. 

\- That was... You are...Oh, God!

\- Oh, not so much, but thank you, John.Greg said something similar... - Mycroft smiled mockingly as he consulted his watch... - Well, keep breathing like that, great, there should be about ten seconds left.... 

\- Ten seconds to what?

Mycroft looked up without time to respond, while a car stopped, skidding, a few meters away.

\- John!

A very angry Sherlock Holmes got out of the car before it even stopped, running towards them.

\- Sherlock, it's not what...

For the second time in just a few minutes, John Watson was unable to finish a sentence because a Holmes crushed him against a wall to kiss him abruptly. "I could get used to this," he thought.

\- MYCROFT HOLMES, GET IN THE CAR RIGHT NOW! WE'RE GOING HOME! 

Mycroft walked slowly away from the new couple and looked at a very authoritarian and angry Greg innocently.

\- What house, Gregory?

-Our house, you idiot! I don't care if it's yours, mine or if we're camping in a real estate agency! I'm not going to take my eyes off you again for the rest of our lives.

With a small smile, he walked towards the car, not before looking up at the camera and winking.

*****************

At the CCTV control centre, Lady Alice extended her hand so that Sir Edwin could give her a five-pound note.   
Perhaps it wasn't entirely ethical to gamble with his colleague's life, but when two weeks ago they went to see Mycroft to ask him about his international killer....

\- How was the meeting with John Watson? Will Sherlock help us?

Mycroft looked at them with that strange expression that appeared on the man's face when he had made a decision and that normally meant that a very powerful and important man was about to lose his job and his fortune. 

\- I'm afraid he's going to be busy..... So do I. I will give them the details and location of the criminal, but you will have to manage on your own. In two weeks I will need to take a few days off.

\- And why, if you can tell?

Mycroft smiled, smug and hardly paid any attention to them.

\- In fifteen days Sherlock will assume his feelings for John Watson and I will have to help DI Lestrade with his change of residence.

Sir Edwin made a mental note to remind himself not to doubt Mycroft Holmes again while ignoring Alice's pleased smile.

Anthea smiled, leaving the control center and admiring once again the manipulative skills of his boss. She had a moving to prepare.


End file.
